Nightmares
by Karen Hikari
Summary: Though nobody can go back and make a new beginning, everyone can start right now and make a different ending Was this really true? Could they figure out what to do? A reflection that brings us to the Sand Siblings again, this time with only Temari and Gaara and their relationship long after Tadashi's death.


_Nightmares_

_«Though nobody can go back and make a new beginning, everyone can start right now and make a different ending»_

Temari woke up to the sound of a person shouting. She froze on her bed, thinking. She remembered she was alone in her room, and looking through the round window she could tell that it was probably past midnight, but not yet twilight.

She sat in her bed rubbing her eyes trying to find a logic explanation for the scream, but there was simply no way it had been real, since –excepting for Gaara, who was probably still doing paperwork at his office– she was alone in the house because Kankuro was out doing a night patrol.

It had been only her imagination, she concluded.

Then she heard footsteps walking past the door of her room, probably heading to a sitting room that separated the bedrooms from the western wing of the building, that had the kitchen and the dining room.

In less than five seconds she was out of bed and with a bag full of shuriken attached to her waist and a kunai in each hand.

Making no sound at all she moved through the room and reached for the door, opening it, the sound of the hinges rustling being covered by the howling of the wind.

In the same graceful and quiet manner she made it through the hall and entered the living room. As soon as she stepped inside the sitting room she was able to identify a humanoid figure standing in front of the round window that led to the street, empty at that time.

"Who are you and what are you doing here?" She demanded, her voice reflecting no emotion at all.

"I live here" was the figure's answer, in the same flat voice that she had used, but it was more than enough for her to realize she was talking to her own brother.

"Gaara, what are you doing here?" She asked, more relaxed than she had been earlier, but still puzzled.

"I've answered, Temari. I live here"

"I know that! What I want to know is what are you doing out of bed at this time. If you already finished doing your pendants perhaps you could go get some sleep" she commanded.

"I won't" he answered.

"Gaara, you can't go on without sleeping. Your body needs rest now" she pointed out, rather impatiently, since she had repeated that at least a hundred times during the few last months.

"Who says so?" He asked, dead serious, but she distinguished a bit of a shaking in his voice.

And then, just as fast, the truth hit her; she understood where the real problem was coming from. Another nightmare. It hadn't been her imagination the scream she had heard–it had been her brother.

She knew that each and every time her smallest brother tried to sleep he was woken up by violent nightmares. And yet, it was also a known fact that a person needs sleep, specially an adolescent or a kid.

Sometimes, knowing that she had no right at all to compel Gaara to revive the horrible moments he had been through, she let him go a night or two without emphasizing he needed to sleep or even that she had noticed how he spent the nights locked up in his office even though he had no more paperwork left to do.

Probably they were only crazy ideas of hers, but she felt that it was not only the idea of going back to sleep what frightened him, but the simple need of some care and knowing he was unable to get it, to reach for it.

She felt somehow angry at him. How was it possible that Gaara didn't know that he could count on her, on both his siblings? But then she realized she was just being selfish and unfair. She should be mad at herself, if any; which she was. How was it possible that she was so unable to mean a difference in her brother's suffering that he didn't even wanted her to notice it? That he trusted her so little that he didn't ask her for help?

Right now he didn't need a bossy or commanding person to give him orders. In that exact moment he just needed a kind voice, a reassuring smile or an action that showed him that she did care.

"Come with me" she offered, extending her hand in his direction "This cannot go on"

"I told you I'm not going anywhere" he hissed, and even through the dim light she realized she shouldn't pull him anymore. She realized she shouldn't, but she just couldn't leave it like that either.

"And I told you this cannot go on like it has until now" she answered, in the same harsh way. Though, before, receiving a threat from Gaara or even an insinuation of one and continue to bother him would have been a suicidal action, she was not scared of her younger brother anymore and she was not going to let another night go on without making him have at least a couple of hours of sleep.

She made herself walk towards her brother, until she was located next to him, her eyes lost in the horizon, just like his.

She let a minute or two pass in complete silence, then she took a deep breath that she let go in a sigh before finally saying what she was thinking.

"What was it about?" She asked, and though she couldn't see her brother's face she could sense the fact that he hadn't understood what she was talking about.

"Huh?" He inquired, half turning to look at her, but avoiding her eyes at all moments, though it proved an unneeded care, because Temari's sight was lost outside the round window, probably watching the sand swirling in the outside, probably just thinking.

"The nightmare" she added, and even without looking straight at her brother, she could sense his bewilderment and unease.

Again, there was complete silence, only the wind's howling could be heard. Apparently, Gaara was not going to answer, he'll just utterly ignore her.

She now regretted having asked, but it had seemed like the best thing to do a moment ago.

Just before she gave up all hope, he started talking. It was a quiet, slow, almost shy voice, that at the beginning she wasn't able to identify as her brother's usual candor, but it was not likely a threat either, which meant she still hadn't cross the line.

"I . . . I was dying" he began, his eyes turning to the floor, his hands curled into fists, his whole body tensed up, which proved how hard it was for him to talk about it."All over again. And you . . . Kankuro and you were just .. . standing there, staring. And . . . after that, when I was finally dead you . . . you just seemed . . . happy, pleased."

That hit Temari with the strength of any kunai . . . probably even harder.

That was it. Even after all that time, even after trying so hard to make it better, to gain each other's trust and respect and affect this had proved them they were still far behind their goal.

Too many years of overdue . . . company; yes, love and comprehension and affect and whatever else, but maybe and just maybe, the company, a simple 'I'm here', would have worked wonders on their relationship. Just that!

But . . . there were too many scars.

Tadashi had been a father to the three of them, not only to Gaara, which meant that, even if his smallest had gotten the worst of him, the older ones weren't in paradise either.

Shinobis are known for being unforgivable, for never fearing anything, for being almost savages. And those were just shinobis standards. Suna was one of the most harsh and dangerous villages, what would you expect from a shinobi or kunoichi born there? They were deathly, that was the way to describe it; deathly and mortal, they were people that enjoyed killing and maiming and causing other's suffering.

And that was just the beginning.

Someone that could kill and see blood and entails without flinching, or someone that would obey superiors without questioning would have been perfectly fine with any shinobi parents. Any but Tadashi. He didn't just want a killer. He wanted a weapon. He didn't just want an obedient son. He wanted a killing machine. Better than that, he wanted a killing machine and two weapons built up from his own children, the people he was supposed to love.

The only solution he could find was separating humanity from the creature. And that creature had been her smallest brother, someone that she was, even in Suna's hierarchy, supposed to protect, to support, to . . . love.

Her middle brother and she herself were part of it also. They were murderers, they didn't enjoy it that much, not as Gaara did, but they didn't flinch, they didn't dislike it, they never thought back or pitied the killed, they could wash away the blood and at the same time be talking with each other about the next day, or be gossiping and they . . . they were not able to feel guilty anymore, and that had been what Tadashi had always wanted, and finally achieved with punching, with yelling, with hurting, with causing suffering to everyone around him, but there it was.

A killing machine and two professional, well-trained murderers.

Yet, now that he was dead, the pain, the suffering, the indifference, the broken bonds, relationships and lives were not getting repaired by themselves.

Especially not the one with her smallest brother.

Kankuro and she had a good, stable relationship because they had been raised together, because in the dark, lonely nights they had each other to cling to if necessary, because even if Tadashi's punching to both of them was meant to make them understand there should be no necessity to protect others, just themselves, and they had finally buried that feeling of closeness under layers and layers of indifference, that bond had always been there, throbbing.

They had rediscovered that bond when they were put in Gaara's team. They needed to trust someone to not kill them, and they had found that in the 'sibling' they still had left, because Gaara felt as far as family as any other.

Maybe that was part of the problem as well.

She had almost ignored Gaara's existence for the first six years of his life, after that, she began to listen the rumors of a red-headed demon—because the thick line between human and beast had been broken; by neglect, by ignorance, by foolishness . . . the important thing is that it wasn't there anymore to protect the village, and the boy himself, from what the real demon could do.

After that, after she saw what that boy that was supposedly her smaller brother, blood of her blood, flesh of her flesh, was capable of doing, she had always feared him.

She surely had felt something that wasn't fear . . . but it hadn't been love either. It was more like . . . emptiness, yearning. It was a 'what would have happened if he weren't a monster?', 'If mom were alive would he be like this?' But just that, not a real affection or bond, not the 'medicine' he had needed since the very beginning.

Maybe if she, the eldest, the wisest, the one that was more prepared —supposedly— had been stronger, smarter, if only had she been able to see back then that what Gaara really needed was just affect, just her attention, then probably things would have been different for everyone.

But she hadn't been back then and it was likely that she wouldn't be now.

Then, everything ended with her father´s dead in the sand dunes, killed by his own ally, leaving her a fucked up family to deal with and no clue of what to do, because she wasn't even sure that she could actually 'love', let alone whom, she was just not sure there was something other than indifference and coldness and a bitchy character inside of her.

Which just brought it back. If she felt that way, and once—even if it had been a very long time ago—had been showed love and had felt it, where did that leave Gaara, whom nobody—except for Yashamaru and the horrible ending that came afterwards—had ever showed love to? Gaara, the one that was never able to love someone, just because nobody allowed him to? Gaara, the one that was asking her for help, even if it was in a way only her could understand, the one that was trying to get sixteen years of overdue attention?

It was true that their relationship had gotten better after Konoha's invasion, but the goddamn communication problem they all shared because of their father kept showing them just how deep the wounds were.

That was when another fact made its way into her brain: Gaara was actually talking to her. Instead of just threatening her or completely ignoring her he was . . . trying to reach for her.

It was about time that she did something right, too.

Slowly, she put her left hand over his shoulders, and squeezed; she felt how immediately afterwards his body tensed, but after a second or two, he simply began relaxing, the idea that it was because he had understood she was not trying to hurt him crossed Temari's mind, but she tried not to think too much about it, because she would start feeling regretful all over again.

Temari sighed deeply before she began talking.

"That's not true, Gaara, those things never make sense once you wake up." She said. She didn't know how to proceed; she was just trying to figure it out fast enough so she didn't make a gigantic and unforgivable mistake.

And then, she understood what she was supposed to do. It had been the answer all along! She herself had thought about it a moment earlier! They just had to communicate, to be honest, to trust each other! Most of her family problems began with one of the members thinking he could solve everything on his own and then realizing that it was not true. She just had to be herself, to . . . trust her own brother.

"After you . . . after you died" she started, uneasy, not comfortable with the fact that her smaller brother had actually died and knowing that probably she would never be "I started having this dreams" she paused, without knowing what to do next. The good news was she had gotten his brother's attention in what she was saying.

"You . . . were crying and calling us, Kankuro and me, and we were just frozen in our spot. You were suffering and you were trying so desperately to get our help and we . . . we were doing nothing, just standing there, we didn't even seem to have noticed about you".

"But that . . . that wasn't me," she continued "because I was seeing everything and then, I blinked or something and when I opened my eyes again . . . you were not you" right then she noticed how stupid it sounded, but since she couldn't find another way of explaining it, she just continued. "I mean, you were you, but you were a kid and you kept calling my name and this time I had noticed, so I turned around to look at Kankuro but he wasn't there anymore. He was Father, and he was offering me a kunai, when I directed my eyes to his back I saw Kankuro and he was tied to a chair, and someone that seemed a clone of me was holding a kunai next to his neck, just waiting for my answer."

"And then I got it. Father wanted me to kill you, so he freed Kankuro. If I chose to save you, he would kill Kankuro. If I didn't chose any of you, he would kill me. You were a kid and you were crying and bleeding and you kept calling me, hoping I would help you. How could I do something like that?"

She stopped for a deep breath. Those memories were not even real, still, the very idea of seeing her father again, and the necessity of choosing one of her siblings over the other, it all made her feel sick and also, deep down, fear, she could tell because of the way her heart started beating faster each time and she began to repress the urge to turn around frantically, expecting Tadashi to appear out of nowhere, as he did in her dream, and though the rational part of her told her that it was impossible, her hypothalamus didn't get it, which meant she was still scared.

"And then I threw the kunai." she continued. Next to her, she heard Gaara gasped for air violently. Right then she understood it, he thought he was the one Temari had thrown the kunai to.

"No. Not to either of you. I threw it to him. To Father." In a violent movement Gaara turned to look at her, bewildered, but their eyes didn't meet because Temari's were still lost outside the window. "I thought I had killed him, but right after he reappeared, laughing and smiling. Kankuro and you were suddenly gone and I was left alone with him. 'It's too late' he said, and then he disappeared, still laughing. Then . . . then I saw you, sixteen again, lying dead in front of me. Right after I woke up, in my bed, sweating, my heart trying to bump out of my chest, gasping for air."

She stayed silent for a moment, then she continued, in a lower voice. "I could never go back to sleep. I tried to convince myself that it had just been a dream, that it was not real, but I would pay no attention to it, because I was too nervous to. So I got to my feet and searched for an excuse, so I could go looking for you. Usually, I went to your office, and I heard you were inside, working or something, and that would set my heart into its place again, because I knew you were fine, and, even if I couldn't go back to sleep, I still felt calmer."

She slowly turned to look at him, meeting his gaze, his eyes huge, looking at her stunned. She smiled slightly, but not her sarcastic, ironic and cold smile, no, this one was tiny, almost unnoticeable, but honest.

"Why would you even care?" he asked. Coming from someone else, it might have seemed rude, but Gaara did not mean to be nasty, he was looking at her right into the eye, and his voice had a tone of fear and sadness, though it was very vague.

There were many answers to that simple question. He was her brother. He was Suna's Kazekage. He was part of the military force of her village. He was her partner. But that was not it. None of them were the real answer.

"Because I love you" she answered, without thinking, without even realizing she had said that until the words had slipped out of her lips.

Those simple words froze him. He stood there, still looking up at his sister, but . . . he seemed scared, fearful. It was just his eyes that told her that, because his face stood as emotionless as ever, but eyes are a window to the soul, right?

Act!–Yelled a voice inside her head–Do something!

Then, without thinking, she pulled him into a hug, using her left arm, that was already settled over his shoulders and squeezed, taking a deep breath. "It's okay." she said, in such a quiet and reassuring voice, she herself was surprised to discover, well-hidden inside of her "I'll promise it'll be fine."

A moment later she separated from him, so she was able to look at him in the eyes.

"Come with me, okay?" she offered, reaching for her brother's hand, who made no movement at all to avoid the contact.

With that, she thought that at least she had got her brother's agreement, so she headed back to her room again.

When they reached her bedroom she realized how awkward it should be for her brother to even think of doing what she was planning on doing–or maybe not awkward, just unfamiliar or rather senseless.

In one of those rare moments in which she didn't plan what she was about to do with her ninja skills but with her feelings, she reached for her brother, pulling him into a hug again. She felt how immediately after she first touched him he stiffened and tried to free himself from her embrace, but after a short while he relaxed against her.

"Gaara, I know" she said, deciding it was better to speak since he could still be confused about the reason for her uncommon touch. "It's okay, you can stay here for tonight if you want to. I'll take care of everything." She said, in a voice very different from her usual one, so harsh, in contrast, this one instead was quiet and somehow gentle.

Though he didn't answered with words she felt him nod against her shoulder, weakly, almost shyly.

"It's okay." she repeated "It'll be fine."

Slowly, very slowly as if she were working with a frightened kitten, she walked to the bed, gently pushing Gaara into the mattress. Oddly, and although she thought her brother had known right away what she had planned, he didn't try to avoid any her touches, but still he avoided eye contact.

She then laid herself next to him; when she was by his side, she pulled the covers over them both and, finally, she turned to face her brother, seeing a confused look in his eyes, even if his face stood as emotionless as always.

For some reason that look only made her feel guilty. She probably had nothing to do with the nightmares that hunted her little brother, but yet, if he was that much confused or rather scared of her showing such a little amount of concern, well . . . that really was her fault.

She realized that she had almost never touched Gaara in a kind way —if not for the chakra-drained occasions—, though it was not as if she did it with Kankuro either. She was a kunoichi, for God's sake, not a simple house wife! And yet, he was not only confused about her hugging him; he was confused about her being concerned about him, plain and simple.

Though nobody can go back and make a new beginning, everyone can start right now and make a different ending. She sighed as she reached for her brother once more, this time making clear what she was planning to do, just in case he wanted to jerk away from her, but instead he just froze, maybe too scared, perhaps not daring to move.

She pulled his smaller frame against her own slowly, realizing how cold his body was and how light he seemed.

"It's okay now" she whispered, with that same quiet and gentle voice.

At such simple words she felt how he slowly relaxed until instinctively he also reached up and encircled her waist with his arms.

"Will you hold me like this the whole night?" He asked in a voice that might have appeared emotionless to any outsider, but that seemed scared and shaky for her.

"No." she simply answered, feeling him immediately stiffen against her body, but knowing that what she would say next would be worth the unexpected response "Not just tonight. I'll do it for as long as I live. For as long as I'm breathing you'll always count on me . . . ototou" she added feeling somehow proud of her last word, and sensing how he tightened his hold around her.

"Thank you" he said, his voice muffled by her shoulder, but she could tell, filled with gratitude and hope.

"You are welcomed, Gaara" she answered "whenever you need it."

After a short while, judging by his breathing next to her neck, her brother was fast asleep, still clinging to her. Defeated by sleep, this time, without fear. She smiled while she separated herself a bit from him.

She had heard that even the most mean and cruel people look innocent in their sleeps, but she couldn't see any of that in her brother's face.

Gaara didn't look innocent or peaceful at all. Instead he just looked . . . childish. He didn't look as the leader of a village or country, or as a jinchuriki, or as a person that had come back from death; instead, he just looked like a kid. Not even like a sixteen-year-old, but probably more like a fourteen-year-old kid.

Maybe it was all the fault of the little moonlight that entered through her window, but she was almost sure that what she was seeing was nothing but the truth.

He looked younger than he really was because of his height, he was shorter than most of the people his age, he always had been. He was very palid, which by itself was already concerning, but counting that he lived in the desert and that he had always been exposed to the burning and unforgiving sun and yet his skin color always remained the same . . . well, it was something more than just abnormal. He was very thin, he was also far lighter than he should be; she was sure that if she were to carry him she'll discover he was hardly as heavy as her fan . . . or even lighter.

And yet . . . Yet he was one of the strongest people she would ever know. Not only was she talking about the battlefield, she was also thinking about personal life and experiences.

He had been through countless things that would have been unbearable by themselves being just a lost and confused child, and now . . . well, now he was Suna's Kazekage and leader, hero to hundreds; but, looking at him with that little moonlight she realized just how young and vulnerable he really was.

Thinking on it now, she also found a logic explanation to Gaara's confused look from earlier: he just didn't know how to react to Temari's actions. She certainly had hugged him before, but it was only a half hearted movement, and never had she invited him into her room, let alone her bed.

They surely had shared a house or a room, but never a bed, and it was always because they were in a mission, not because it had been their choice.

Until she had been ten she had shared a room with Kankuro, sharing a bed with her middle brother? Countless times! And yet . . . she had never done the same thing or something remotely similar with her smallest brother. It was true that the past had been harsh for the three of them, but she had a new opportunity to bond with her brother and she was just letting it slip away through her fingers like water.

Suddenly she was overwhelmed by an urge to kiss her brother's forehead, something she had never done before, but it vanished when she realized that if it was going to be the first time she did something like that she wanted Gaara to be able to remember it later, maybe just to prove him that she cared, that he could count on her.

Instead, she just hugged him even tighter, promising herself that she would treat this new opportunity to protect and help her smallest sibling with the same care that she used to carry and protect water from vanishing in the sand dunes.

She smiled softly before allowing herself to drift into sleep as well.


End file.
